Heat of the Day
by Matrix Refugee
Summary: One summer day, during a school break, Muraki makes a confession to his closest friend, which changes their relationship completely. Mild slash: Muraki/Oriya


Title: "Heat of the Day"

Author: matrixrefugee

Fandom: Yami no Matsuei, aka Descedants of Darkness

Characters: young!Muraki, young!Oriya

Pairing: Muraki/Oriya

Genre: Romance, coming of age

Rating: PG-13

Prompt: Round 3, 23: a creek LiveJournal's "story_lottery

Summary: One summer day, during a school break, Muraki makes a confession to his closest friend, which changes their relationship

Spoilers: None in particular

Warning(s): Mild slash (guys kissing)

Word Count: 1,115

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, aka Descendants of Darkness, it's characters, concepts and other indicia, which are the intellectual property of Yoko Matsushita, Hiroko Tokita, Manga Entertainment, Viz Media, Hakusensha, Central Park Media, et al.

A/N: I have long held the theory that Muraki and Oriya are lovers (or at least sex-buddies, with Oriya serving as Muraki's donor once his vampirism started to become more obvious), though I have a feeling Oriya is essentially straight, he just made an exception for his best friend...

A hot summer day during school break: Oriya's mother and grandmother had chosen what felt like the hottest day of the season to start cleaning the old house. The maids at Koka-Korou were in a panic, scurrying about, sweeping, dusting and scrubbing the woodwork. This sent Kazutaka and Oriya fleeing outside and down to a creek, to avoid being dragged into helping remove the cobwebs from the corners and angles where the walls met the ceilings.

At least it felt cooler here, but Kazutaka could still feel the heat of the sun, even in the shade of the pine trees that overhung the creek. He had opened his collar as soon as the temperature started to soar, but now that they had found refuge under the trees, he unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off.

Oriya watched him with mild amusement. "You don't dress right for this weather, Kazu-kun," he said. "You'd be better off wearing yukata."

"I'd look emaciated wearing that," Kazutaka replied, blotting his face with his already damp shirt.

"You look too thin dressed or naked. You're not eating or exercising right," Oriya said, eying the other young man's lean torso. In the past year, Kazutaka had shot up three inches but that had caused him to outgrow the rest of himself, leaving him all hard angles and edges.

"Getting like a mother hen with me again?" he asked, kicking off his sandals and perching himself on a rock.

"Someone has to, if I don't," Oriya shot back, kneeling over a small pile of rocks on the shore and removing the topmost stone before peering into the hidden cavity inside. "We're in luck: no one found my stash,," he said, taking out a bottle of sake.

"Even if they did, once they knew it was yours, they wouldn't touch it, if they were smart," Kazutaka said, dryly.

"I can't watch it all the time," Oriya growled, good-naturedly, taking the cork out of the bottle and taking a swig from it before passing it to Kazutaka. He took a pull from it, then handed it back, his eye on Oriya's neck, where a few strands of the taller youth's long hair had pulled pulled out of the thong that held it back, the dark brown strands brushing his skin; a pearl-like bead of sweat had formed at the angle of Oriya's neck and shoulder. He licked his lips, looking away, trying to hold back the hunger starting to coil inside his lean belly and below it.

Oriya must have sensed something: he turned, eying Kazutaka narrowly yet without judgment. "Were you looking at me? Those pale eyes of yours are like icepicks," he said.

"I'm sorry, I was looking at your hair, how it was brushing against your neck," Kazutaka replied.

Oriya shrugged one broad shoulder, the cotton fabric of his yukata rustling. "I don't mind. If it was anyone else, I'd be ticked, but I know you and your needs," he said, nonchalant.

"Who told you that?" Kazutaka said, wary now.

"I overheard your grandfather talking to my father," he said. "I know about your dad giving you hell about it. He might be your father, but it ain't his place to tell you where your tastes should run."

"It doesn't bother you?" he asked, trying not to sound hopeful, trying instead to sound relieved.

"The hell it doesn't," Oriya said, taking another swig from the bottle and passing it to Kazutaka, who drank from it with a bit less enthusiasm this time before handing it back. "It's your business and yours alone, what sort of person you want. You can kiss me if you want. It's better that way, than letting some old creep feel you up, or if you went sneaking off to certain places in Shinjuku."

"You'd really let me kiss you, Oriya-kun?" he asked, his eyes drawn again to the side of his friend's neck. The bead of sweat he had been admiring had rolled down under the neck of Oriya's yukata, but another was forming, taking its place.

"Of course I would," Oriya said, turning to look him in the eye. "Now stop asking questions and man up."

Kazutaka drew in a nervous breath, then leaned over before laying his lips against Oriya's neck, kissing the silken skin there. He drew back slightly, licking away the bead of sweat there, savoring the salt taste. He looked up again at Oriya, wondering how the taller youth would react, expecting forbearance.

Oriya looked at him with a small smile. He clearly wasn't completely at ease, from the way he blinked a bit nervously. His tastes didn't run this way, but he clearly cared more about his friend's safety more than his own comfort or composure. It might not be a fierce, passionate love fueled by a burning desire of his own, but in a way, it was still somehow related to love.

"What would Ukyou say?" he asked.

"I think she'd think it was a noble thing for me to offer, and that you're being an idiot for holding back. She's more interested in your happiness and the happiness of others than in her own, you know that," Oriya said, clearly getting a bit impatient, not in a "let's get this over and done with" way, but more in a way intended to goad Kazutaka into breaking free of his hesitation.

Kazutaka looked away, to the creek below them, to the water splashing and gurgling over the rocks. The water trade... the element that symbolized the commodity that Oriya's family had plied for generations. And here his friend was offering himself to him, like a drink of cool water, with no fee expected in return.

"Don't tell me you don't know what to do with yourself or with me," Oriya said, breaking the stillness, his tone almost teasing. "For a pre-med student, you're pretty naive, if that's the case."

Kazutaka smirked slightly. "I have an idea, but it's... awkward to think of, when I know your desires don't run the same way," he admitted.

"No, they don't, and you're the only guy I'd ever even think of doing this with," he said. "Would you rather I was the one on top, showing you what can be done?"

"I... yes, I think I'd prefer that," Kazutaka replied.

"Making me do all the work as usual," Oriya growled, rising and going in deeper under the trees. Kazutaka rose and followed him, seating himself on the sparse grass near the roots of a tree. Oriya seated himself beside Kazutaka, gently pushing the pale youth down onto his back, running a hand over Kazutaka's chest before leaning over him.

"I'd be the last one to just lay here," Kazutaka said with a smirk, as he reached a hand behind Oriya's neck and drew him closer to kiss him on the mouth...


End file.
